Breaking the Ice
by CamiIsMagical
Summary: In this fluffy winter phanfic, Phil has a secret passion. Once a week, he sneaks out to ice skate on frozen ponds, dancing across the ice into the night. Afraid of what other people might think, he keeps his talent hidden, but Dan knows something's up. Will his secret be revealed? And what would Dan think? Dan x Phil, Phan
1. Chapter 1

Phil pirouetted gracefully into the air, feeling the magic of the moment pulsing through his veins. His skates touched back onto the ice, landing smoothly and softly so he could slide into a few circles. With eyes closed, Phil imagined a stadium filled with people cheering as he twirled and leaped, clad in a sparkly, shimmering outfit. When his eyes opened, however, the image fell around him. The idea of letting the world know of his passion for ice skating made him shudder with fear. They would laugh at him, they would shut him out. The pain of the thought made him skitter, and he fell hard onto the ice below.

Slowly, painfully, Phil pulled himself back up and glided to the pile of snow where his shoes lay. He sat on the fluffy, white, cold mid- winter snow with a soft thump and pulled his Converse back on to his numb feet. Shivering, he walked back through the snow to his car, parked on the lamp- lit street. No longer lost in the world of ice skating, Phil felt fear as the dark pressed down on him, hiding his darkest fears just beyond his line of sight. He quickened his pace.

The ride home was a bliss in the heat- filled car. The soft quiet of winter drifted outside Phil's frosty windows, the peaceful silence occasionally broken by the sound of another car making its way through the slush filled streets. After a quick, cold walk back to the apartment, he opened the door and felt warmth wash over him again, not entirely due to the fact that the apartment was heated.

Dan stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, wearing one of Phil's Christmas sweaters, his face pulled tightly with worry. Once he saw Phil, his expression softened for a fleeting second before turning into one of anger.

"Phil! Where were you? I've been so worried!"

"I told you, I was at the grocery store!"

"Then why don't you have any groceries?" Shit! Phil had forgotten to buy groceries on his way home.

"I- I didn't find anything we needed." he felt shame well up at the lie.

"Why are you all wet?"

"It snowed. And I kind of- stood outside for a while." Dan shook his head.

"Phil, you could have gotten hypothermia. Come inside and get warm, maybe take a hot shower or change." Phil looked down at his sopping wet clothes, dripping puddles onto the hardwood floor. He hadn't even noticed.

"Right. Well- um, see you at dinner." Phil hurried by, careful to keep his skates concealed in the black bag he had. Dan thought it was Phil's man- purse, and laughed at him about it constantly. But he would laugh more if he knew what was inside. How long could he keep his secret passion hidden, before someone found out and made him a laughingstock? Boys weren't supposed to ice skate. They were supposed to like things like sports, or video games.

Phil's mind was full of thought as he showered, dressed, and ate dinner. If Dan noticed his silence, he didn't say anything. 'He must know something's up,' Phil thought to himself. 'If I keep going like this he'll start to investigate.'

As he drifted off to sleep, Phil's dreams filled with the feeling of freedom as he danced across the ice, the sound of his skates scraping against the frozen water, and the sight of Dan, laughing at him from the sidelines.


	2. Chapter 2

Phil woke up to sun filtering through his curtains and rolled onto his back. He let out a small cry of pain as something dug into his ribs, and realized he had left his bag, with skates spilled out, on his bed.

"Phil?" he heard a voice from down the hall, followed by muffled footsteps on carpet. Hurriedly, he shoved the skates back into the bag and clasped it shut. The door handle turned. Dan poked his head in, his brown hobbit hair framing his tired face, which still had traces of concern etched into it. "Are you all right?" he asked, yawning.

"Oh, fine, fine!" Phil said in a high pitched voice that did not belong to him. He cleared his throat and continued. "Just rolled over onto my bag, that's all."

Dan shook his head. "What do you keep in there?" he said, peering at the dark bag with the silver clasp.

"The dead bodies," replied Phil calmly, attempting to casually put the bag under his bed. Dan laughed, but he still looked suspicious.

"Breakfast in 10," he said, still looking at where Phil had hidden the man- purse. The door shut and Phil collapsed back on the bed, heart still racing. That was much, much too close. He shoved the bag further under the bed with his foot. When he went to stand up, however, he was forced to fall back on the bed, almost letting out another cry of pain. Soreness spread all over his body from the fall he had taken, forgetting to stretch afterwards. Today was going to be a long day.

The smell of eggs and bacon finally enticed Phil to leave his bed, wincing with every step down the hall. As he sat down at the table, Dan placed a steaming plate on the table in front of him, followed by a mug of hot tea, which Phil sniffed suspiciously.

"No, I haven't put any salt in it," Dan said, smiling and sitting down with his own plate. They ate enthusiastically, pausing to talk every once in a while.

"So, what did you want to do today?" asked Phil, picking up another piece of bacon.

"I thought, since it's winter, we could go ice skating!" said Dan enthusiastically. Phil choked on his tea.

"Ice skating? M-me?" Phil spluttered, setting down his tea with a shaky hand. "You know I'm bad at that, Dan, I really don't think- I mean- It's just-" He broke off at the pleading look on Dan's face.

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"Oh, but- I- alright," he sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

Phil's insides twisted with terror the entire silent car ride to the ice rink. Did Dan know? How could he know? Phil had taken every measure to hide his secret. There was no way Dan could know. But what if he found out? Was it even possible to be purposefully bad at ice skating? Before he was ready, they were pulling in to the parking lot at the skating rink. Dan was all smiles.

"It's fine, Phil, really," he chuckled, misreading the panic on Phil's face. "I'm terrible too, remember? We'll just stick together and we'll do fine. I brought the camera to film our shame," he added, reaching under his seat and pulling out one of their many cameras. Phil's heart seemed to freeze at the sight of it, something that could reveal his terrible secret to the whole world.

It was a blur as they headed through the entryway, getting their skates, and lacing up, Dan chatting away the whole time. Phil was swimming in panic, which seemed to vanish when he looked out onto the ice, feeling the skates on his feet. He so longed to rush out, leaping and spinning complex patterns onto the frozen surface, but Dan's voice pulled him back to reality.

"Just hold on to my arm, Phil, you'll be fine," he said, holding out his coated arm. Reluctantly, Phil clutched to his arm and they put their feet onto the ice. The familiar smooth feel opened up beneath him, and he closed his eyes, listening to the sound of skates around him. Dan wobbled, and he remembered something about pretending to be bad, but the ice was calling, calling his name...

With a sigh, he opened his eyes, pretending to skitter around a bit before clinging to the wall. Dan pulled the camera out, filming Phil, slipping and sliding, clutching to the wall like a life line, then falling. Phil filmed Dan, who really did slip and fall in front of a small child. After profuse apologies, both to a crying child and an angry mother, they continued, the minutes dragging by. Phil couldn't resist anymore, he had to do something...

"About ready to go, Phil?" Dan glided up to him, slamming into the wall beside Phil and clinging to it.

"Sure," said Phil, relieved. He slid to the exit area gracefully before remembering his act, forcing himself to trip and fall. Dan laughed behind him, and he felt his cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. If only...

They returned home, Phil still aching with longing to be out on the ice again. He quietly made sandwiches and Dan checked various social media while they ate lunch.

"They're getting restless," Dan said with another grin. Phil nodded and finished his sandwich, not noticing the smile fading from Dan's face, slowly replaced by concern.

"Bathroom," Phil muttered, standing up and walking down the hall. Dan heard the door close and jumped up. Now was his chance. He hurried down the hall to Phil's room, tiptoeing quietly past the bathroom door. The small wooden door creaked as it opened, bringing the familiar sight of Phil's bedroom to Dan's eyes. Without hesitation, he hurried over to the bed, knelt down and felt around until his hand rested on something soft. he pulled out Phil's bag.


	4. Chapter 4

Hands trembling slightly, Dan undid the silver clasp on the bag. After a few tries, it slid open, allowing Dan to pull off the top flap. His breath quickened in anticipation; he could finally find out what Phil was up to. He turned the bag over, and out slid... a pair of skates. Beautiful, white, with gleaming silver blades and tight laces winding up the fronts.

Dan's brow furrowed in confusion. Skates? But what was Phil doing with skates? A million possibilities zoomed through his mind, but before he could consider anything he heard the toilet flush. Panic overwhelmed him, this was something Phil did not want him to know about. But he had a plan. The skates were in the bag, back under the bed, and Dan was seated at the table with his laptop when Phil came out. Without greeting, he shuffled back into his room, Dan peering after him curiously.

That night, Phil finally emerged, a familiar black bag slung over his shoulder.

"I'm going out," he announced, adding something about a friend. Usually, Phil only skated once a week, so as not to arouse suspicion, but he really needed to let go again.

"Have fun," said Dan with a smile. "And come home soon." Phil nodded and headed out the door. Once in the car, he sped to his frozen pond, his sanctuary, and stepped out into the cold night air. Clutching his bag tightly, watching his breath swirl around him, fog piercing the veil of night. His excitement peaked as he sat down to lace up his skates, pulling his skinny jeans over the lining and tongue, just above the backstay.

Finally, he was home. All of his troubles, his problems, his stress and anger dropped away like leaves on a tree in autumn as the blades of his skates touched the cool ice. He glided out onto the frozen surface of the pond, circling a few times to get into the groove, then began his dance. Once more, his eyes closed as he enveloped himself into his own world, leaping and pirouetting and swirling around the ice. The cold of the night fell away, there was only the sound of his skates on ice and the sensation of losing himself into an art, something of his own.

Minutes flew past, and Phil pressed on, improvising every move, pulling himself in to spin. He opened his eyes to watch the world whiz by, spinning tighter and tighter, when his heart froze like the water beneath him. He must have imagined it. The toe pick caught on the shimmering surface of the ice, causing him to lose control and fall into a spinning heap on the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

Terrified, Phil peeked up, hoping against hope that what he saw was purely his imagination. But sure enough, there he was. Dan stood at the edge of the pond, near the snowbank with Phil's shoes, his hands in his pockets. Phil scrambled into a sitting position and, despite the cold, biting, air, felt his face heating up to a steady scarlet color.

"I- you- I just- I can explain," he gasped, still staring at Dan, whose expression was unreadable.

"Come here before you freeze to death," said Dan in a shaky voice. Phil obeyed, tears pricking his eyes. Crying would make it worse. But he still couldn't fight back the tears watering his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. Dan still had his back to him, and seemed to be pulling something out of a backpack. Moments later, he turned and handed Phil a hot towel, a coat, and gloves. Phil quietly took the items, nodding his thanks, and sat down on a nearby snowbank. Dan sat next to him.

"How did you know?" he whispered, staring at his feet, still clad in his white skates.

"I looked through your bag. I was curious. And I saw the skates, and i got more curious. So I followed you out here."

"How much... How much did you see?" Phil asked, dreading the answer.

"Almost all of it." Phil gasped again, and he couldn't stop the hot tears from rolling down his cheeks, dripping onto his jeans. "Phil!" Dan exclaimed, surprised. "Phil, no! Look at me." Phil didn't want to look up, he couldn't. He was so ashamed. How could he have been so careless, so stupid? "Phil," Dan whispered. "Please Phil, look at me." Phil felt a hand on his chin and he looked up, his eyes swimming with tears. Through his watery vision, he could see Dan, his face pulled into concern again, his own eyes pricked with tears. "Phil, what you just did was- amazing. That doesn't begin to cover it. It was beautiful, incredible. I could have watched you for hours. You have a real talent." Phil furrowed his brow, confused. Why wasn't Dan laughing? "Phil," Dan began again, "Why did you hide this? Why didn't you tell me?"

Before Phil knew it, he was spilling everything. "Because everyone would laugh at me. Because guys are supposed to like sports, or hiking, or whatever. They're not supposed to like dancing, ice skating. You should be laughing right now. I didn't want anyone to know, because the world would have shunned me. I would have been a laughingstock." The tears were flowing easily now, and Phil was surprised when Dan pulled him into a hug.

"You were scared about what everyone would think of you? I just saw a piece of your soul, Phil, and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. If anyone denied that, they would be blind. You are who you are, Phil, and you shouldn't be afraid to put yourself out in the world. I would never, ever laugh at something you loved, ever. I've never seen you look so free, so at peace. Just because a few people will judge you for it does NOT mean you shouldn't show people, inspire people." Dan pulled away from the hug, resting his hands on Phil's shoulders. "I'm with you, Phil. Always. Just remember that, okay?"


	6. Chapter 6

Phil walked back to the car, elated, Dan's words still echoing in his mind. He felt as if an elephant had stepped off of his chest, and he could breathe again. Dan was right, of course. Why should he care what other people thought? This was something he loved. People could accept that.

"See you at the apartment," said Dan with a wink, and he strode off to his own car. Phil waved, climbed into the front seat, and started the car. Before he knew it, he was laughing. The relief inside him was so great. No more sneaking off at night, no more lying or covering up. He drove back home, feeling on top of the world. Dan was already there when he returned, waiting with a mug of hot chocolate. "Want to put the tree up?" he asked when Phil walked in.

"The... the tree?"

"It's Christmas Eve, did you forget?" Phil gasped. The tree! How could he have let his excitement for the holiday season escape him? He had bought all his presents last month, of course, but he had totally forgotten his favorite time of the year.

"Yes! The tree!" Phil rushed to get the box that held their tree, and he and Dan dumped the parts onto the floor. A half- hour later, the lights of the twinkling Christmas tree reflected in Phil's ice blue eyes, already gleaming with the joy and happiness he hadn't felt in weeks.

"I have to run an errand really fast, if you don't mind," said Dan, grabbing his keys. "Forgot to pick up something." Phil nodded as he headed out the door, then rushed to his room to wrap Dan's presents, light still sparkling in his eyes.

The following morning, Phil woke up at 4 AM, shivering with excitement. CHRISTMAS! He rushed out of bed into the living room, seeing the tree piled with presents under its belt. His Delia Smith pancake recipe was memorized by heart, and he was flipping the thin, golden circles within 15 minutes. Dan wandered out of his room sleepily, awakened by the smell of breakfast. Phil heard his stomach rumble and he laughed.

"Morning, Dan!" He said cheerily, and Dan grumbled in reply. A hot plate stacked with pancakes sat in front of him, followed by a mug of dark coffee. Dan was buzzing in no time, catching on to Phil's mood as he sipped the caffeinated drink, eyeing the presents under the tree until they couldn't take the tension anymore. They tore into the packages, sending wrapping paper and boxes flying in all directions. Exclamations filled the air, conveying gratitude, surprise, and happiness. Finally, only one present remained, wrapped in a shimmering gold paper.

"It's for you, Phil," Dan said, his dimples deepening. Carefully, Phil took the box from the tree and undid the paper. A silver box lay underneath, and he lifted the lid. Phil gasped and tears swam in his eyes again at the sight of his gift.

A brand new pair of ice skates sat in the box. They were the most beautiful things Phil had ever seen; white, like his old pair, but a brighter tone, like fresh fallen snow. The heel was silver, and the blades seem to radiate light even though the sky outside was dark. They were lined with a soft fur that carried onto the inside, to keep his feet warm, and the laces were a frosty blue.

"Oh, Dan," he whispered. "They're perfect." He looked up to see Dan grinning from ear to ear, a pair of black skates dangling from his hand.

"Want to go ice skating with me?"


	7. Chapter 7

After a grateful hug, Phil followed Dan to the car, his new skates in his bag. He had carefully stowed his old ones in the closet, boxed up and cushioned. The well- worn skates would always have a special place in his heart. Phil directed Dan to the pond, and the drive seemed shorter than ever with Dan there, cracking jokes and oozing sarcasm. When they reached the frozen sanctuary that had been Phil's escape for months, the sky was still an inky black. Phil trudged over to his snow bank to sit and put on his new skates.

He had never felt anything like it. They were snug, hugging his feet and enveloping them in the soft fur. He felt like he was walking on a cloud. Dan, however, seemed to be struggling to get his on. With a laugh, Phil helped him ease the skate onto his foot, and he stood up shakily.

"You're going to have to help me here," said Dan, gazing at the ice with apprehension. Phil took his hand.

"Always," he whispered, then led him out onto the ice. He glided out easily, his new skates cutting across the ice without effort. Dan leaned backward, causing his skates to slip. Phil caught him before he fell.

"You make it look so easy," Dan pouted, regaining his balance. As his friend worked to stand, knees jerking and wobbling, Phil glided past him on one leg, the other sticking out behind him. "Show off!" Dan called, attempting to slide forward. He laughed and skated over to where Dan stood, grabbing his shoulders.

"Just look at me, not at your feet," he said. "Push off and let your feet do the rest." Eventually, Dan pushed off tentatively, managing to slide forward; then, so shocked at his accomplishment, proceeded to fall. He looked up at Phil, embarrassed, and took the hand Phil offered. "Try again," said Phil reassuringly, when Dan had stood up. Before he could take in what was happening, Dan had pressed his cold lips to Phil's, wrapping an arm around his waist. Phil eagerly returned the icy kiss, their lips moving in a harmony without effort.

"You know," whispered Dan, pulling back a few inches, "I'd rather watch you." And with that, he carefully hobbled back to the snowy banks to sit, then looked at Phil, expectant. Phil closed his eyes and pushed all thoughts, now shouting in his head, away. He forgot that Dan was watching, he forgot everything, and began to dance. The routine was easy, allowing his mind to travel to his place of peace as his skates skittered and sliced across the ground.

Dan watched, awed, as Phil leaped into the air, twirling gracefully, and returned to the ground, gliding effortlessly into a tight spin before lowering himself into the splits. The sun burst at last into the sky, casting fiery reds and oranges onto the surrounding snow as Phil performed a series of tight circles. His jet black hair fluttered in the wind of his speed, and the glow of the sun reflected off his pale face, filled with joy.

Phil felt the warmth and comfort of the sun enveloping him, and he was momentarily confused. he stopped and looked around, forgetting he was not, in fact, alone in the late of the night. Dan was staring at him, entranced, and Phil grinned sheepishly. He had never been so happy before. Finally, Phil had found his destiny. His life laid out before him, filled with his freedom on the ice, spending time with Dan, and being who he truly was. His heart accelerated as Dan stood and opened his arms to him.


End file.
